


Fairy Boys are Pale and Nervous

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Drama, First Time, Friendship, Glitterverse, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:51:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5930752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First Part of the Fairy Boys series</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairy Boys are Pale and Nervous

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

When Remus Lupin was in the shower, he usually tried not to think about Sirius Black. He just didn't feel comfortable taking care of the resulting, um, problem in the tiny shower stall -- the **other** lads had to use it as well. It was just a bit disgusting. He couldn't stomach the thought of having to stand in, say, Peter or Jim's bodily fluids. Funnily enough, thinking about Sirius' didn't bother him all that much...

"Dammit," Remus muttered, letting the hot water run over his back like a lover's fingertips. He reached to the temperature dial, then hesitated. Having to turn the tap to cold halfway through washing his long hair was pure torture. Surely it wouldn't be too bad if he treated himself just once to a quick wank?

He began to slowly slide his soapy hand downwards, then stopped abruptly.

"Control yourself," he ordered. He tried to calm his ragged breathing, and muttered, "Think about something gross. Winston Churchill in stockings. Flobberworm poo. Jerry Devine naked on a cold day."

Uh-oh. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. The 'problem' seemed to double in size. Thinking about Jerry Devine (disgusting, fur-wearing medallion- man though he was), automatically made him think of that picture. Oh, god. **That** **bloody** **picture**. The one of Curt and Brian, and the tongues, and... oh, **god**...

~+~+~+~

"...I'm glad I caught you on my viewscreen, sailor..."

Remus looked over to the record player in the corner of the common room, and shook his head. Sirius was there wearing a rather sexy pair of flared jeans and one of those tight t-shirts. Pity he didn't **sound** quite as good as he looked, singing along, very loudly and very off-key, to his new LP.

The song finished and Sirius flicked his wand lazily. The needle hopped back to the beginning of the track, and a voice blared out, "Well, you're the grand Wilde..."

"Have you noticed, when you walk in all the fairy boys are pale and nervous?!" Sirius 'sang' at the top of his lungs.

Lily locked eyes with James and they both had to chew hard on her lips to keep from bursting out laughing.

"Sirius!" Lily called. He looked up, and came over reluctantly when he saw her beckoning.

"Yeah?"

"Listen, mate," James said, "it's a great song, but d'you think you could play the whole album through?"

Sirius looked thoroughly perplexed, as if playing a record from beginning to end was a supremely stupid thing to do. "Um, yeah, I suppose so," he said, in a tone that would be better suited to a sentence like, "Um, no, Jim, you daft sod. What would **that** accomplish?"

"Let's have a look at the sleeve," Lily said. Sirius Summoned it over and handed it to her.

Remus looked disinterestedly at the picture of the singer on the outside cover. He looked nice enough, but then Lily opened it up curiously...

...and Remus' eyes almost dropped out of his head. _Oh, god_ , he thought. _Who is **that**?_ The man in the picture spread across the inside cover was too beautiful to be mortal, too sexy to be an angel... he was a **Pop Idol** , and he just exuded fuckability. He stood there in all his pouting, full-lipped glory, huge eyes staring out insolently from a face with cheekbones that could split atoms. He was naked, apart from what looked like a dark red velvet theatre curtain draped around his hips like the skirt of some sumptuous ballgown.

"Holy hell," James breathed. His glasses were slipping and he thumbed them up almost impatiently so he could get another look. "Wow. That's the sort of guy who makes me consider trying out your team, Siri," he said weakly.

Sirius beamed. "Couldn't you just eat him up?"

"You know what? If I ever got half a chance, I might be tempted to do just that."

"Go James!" Sirius crowed. Lily just laughed at the boys.

"Wouldn't mind taking a right good crack at him myself..."

A small squabble ensued -- James and Lily in what would definitely be termed a lover's tiff if James ever got around to dumping his current girlfriend so he could actually ask Lily out. Remus ignored them. He just looked. And speculated. Mmm. Half a chance. Hell, yeah.

"Remus?"

Half a chance, and he'd be running his hands through that hair, tousling it gently, pulling the vision's face down so he could run his tongue over those gorgeous lips. They'd taste sweet somehow. He didn't know how he knew that. He just did. Dream-lips were **always** sweet...

"Earth to Remus? Hellooo?"

Remus jumped and looked in confusion at the fingers waggling in front of his eyes, then at the owner of the fingers. He snapped back to reality somewhat reluctantly.

"Um. Sirius. What?"

"I said, what's so fascinating about Brian Slade that you have to stare at his picture for twenty minutes?"

_Twenty bloody minutes?_

"I mean, yeah, I know he's a stunner," Sirius continued, "but... I didn't think this modern stuff was your thing. Had it in my head you were still pining after Marilyn Monroe."

_That's it. Marilyn. Girls. Beautiful girls with blonde hair and curvaceous hips and large breasts that I really, really want to kiss._

_Or not._

_Dammit. There's something wrong with me. Marilyn Monroe doesn't turn me on any more. I'm freakish._

"Um." Remus folded the album cover up and handed it to his friend. "Sorry, mate, but it just isn't fair to compare this painted fairy-boy with Marilyn. There's absolutely no contest."

Sirius narrowed his eyes, pouted his lips in a very Brian Slade-ish way that turned Remus' knees to water, and stalked off as if Remus had just delivered the most crushing personal insult possible.

Of course, he hadn't. Sirius didn't know that it wasn't the blonde actress who'd win said contest if Remus were judging.

~+~

All the inhabitants of Gryffindor Tower were Brian Slade fans before long. Not that they had any choice, of course, with Sirius and James playing his records at maximum volume all day and night. To be fair, it wasn't **just** Brian they played, although he was their favourite. Sirius soon became rather enamoured of an American singer too.

"Curt Wiiiiiiiild!" Sirius bellowed, waving an LP in the air and almost knocking the heads off a couple of cringing first years. "Guys! Look! Founder of the most influential garage band known to mankind! Guys! Guys!" he yelled, running over to the table where his friends were.

"What?" Peter asked, sounding rather amused. Sirius was an absolute sight. His long black hair was falling out of its ponytail, and his tight Maxwell Demon t-shirt had ridden up a little way to reveal a few inches of bare, tanned

(very lickable)

skin. He'd obviously succumbed to the urge to have a little joyful dance around the dormitory before coming down to share his present with the others.

And Remus suddenly decided that there **was** something more beautiful than Brian Slade.

"I love my mum!" Sirius said, waving the album. "I mean it. I love her with a deep, blazing passion because she is an absolute **star** and a **goddess** , and..." He climbed onto a table and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Oi! Everyone, listen! Althea Grace Black is the most wonderful person in the world and I adore her. Got that?"

A couple of people nodded, but on the whole they ignored him. They were used to it. It happened every time someone from home sent him a new record.

"Put it on, then!" Lily said eagerly. The boys had been horrified to learn she was a Donny Osmond fan (especially Peter, who secretly favoured David Cassidy) and had taken it upon themselves to educate her in the fine art that was glam. They were relieved beyond belief when she developed a taste and finally a hunger for it... especially James. He'd never admit it, but Lily looked **hot** in glitter.

_It's loud_ , was Remus' first thought when the speakers came to life and spewed out angry electric guitar noises, accompanied by a man's scream. As the song progressed, though, he got into it more. That might have had something to do with the fact that Sirius was thrashing about and singing into a pretend microphone (a hairbrush he'd stolen from James' girlfriend Ghislaine), and looking absobloodylutely gorgeous... then again, it might not.

"See that cat, yeah I do mean you!" Sirius sang. "Shoot your T.V. eye on me, shoot your T.V. eeeeyeeeee! Shoot your..."

He stopped singing when an owl swooped in through the window and dropped a newspaper at his feet.

"Oooh, Melody Maker!" He threw Ghislaine's hairbrush back and took the paper over to the table. "Shove off, Skye," he said to Peter's girlfriend, who was sprawled across the table. Sirius opened the paper up and began flicking through the pages, scanning the headlines for something that seemed interesting.

"Hello, hello... what's this?" he muttered when he saw a picture taking up almost a quarter of a page. He read the caption beside it out loud. "'Camp isn't just a row of tents!' Heh! Guys! Look at this, you'll flip out!"

They crowded around, and Lily was the first to flip out, as Sirius so eloquently put it. "Oh my bloody god," she muttered. "That sort of behaviour **has** to be illegal. That looks too good to be above-board."

Peter nodded fervently, although he looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Yeah. And, um... nice guitar too."

James stared at him. "Nice guitar? You're faced with something as horny as that and all you can think is **nice bloody guitar**? Pete, I've said it before and I'm going to reiterate: You. Are. Goddamn. Weird."

"Well, it **is** a nice guitar," Peter said stubbornly.

Remus kept his lips firmly closed. Drooling on Sirius' precious Melody Maker would more than likely land Remus in the hospital wing with something spiky and metallic shoved into every bodily orifice. _It **is** a nice guitar_ , he thought, _and a fucking lucky one too..._

_I would pay **so** much money to be that guitar._

The photo had obviously been taken mid-song at a concert. Curt Wild was there -- an American with long blond hair, platform shoes, and a smile that every pulse-owning person in the world would give their lives to kiss. He was somehow displaying a pair of **bloody** sexy forearms too. His sleeves were pushed up, and Remus could see the clearly defined muscles as Curt played his electric guitar, holding the instrument close to his hips as he thrashed out a solo.

But it got better.

**Damn** , it got better.

Brian Slade was on his knees in front of Curt, arms wrapped around Curt's slim hips, hands clutching Curt's tight, leather-covered arse, and fingers inserted firmly in the waistband of Curt's trousers. And... god. He was **licking** that guitar, pressing his face into it and caressing it with his tongue as though it was something to be revered, worshipped. It was, of course. Like Peter said, it was a nice guitar.

Just not half as nice as what it was covering.

Damn shame it was a Muggle paper. They looked so good stationary. What if they were **moving**?

Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was really, horribly, **achingly** hard, but if he hobbled off to take care of it he just **knew** everyone would notice. Maybe he'd just wait here for the next ice age to come along and cool his burning cheeks down a little.

He looked away. At least, he looked away from the paper and pretended to be rereading his Charms essay. Really, he was sneaking glances at Sirius.

Sirius was beautiful. Really. It was a damn good thing boys were **allowed** to be described as beautiful now, because Sirius sure as hell wasn't ruggedly sexy like that Ravenclaw Beater, or even handsome like James. He was goddamn **beautiful** , and his recent discovery that a touch of glittery silver or smoky black eyeliner really suited him just made it... better? Worse? Remus wasn't sure. He **was** sure, though, that staring at Sirius wasn't the best way to rid himself of an erection.

He couldn't stop though. Not until Sirius' eyes suddenly widened and his jaw went slack and he made a gurgling sort of noise deep in the back of his throat.

"Sirius?" James said. He'd lost interest in the paper once Sirius turned away from the guitar-licking photo, but now he glanced at it curiously to see what had unhinged his best friend so much.

Sirius just pointed. "They're..." He forgot how to speak English and finished his sentence in something that sounded remarkably like Gobbledegook.

James looked, and turned pale.

"Oh my dear god," he murmured. His mouth worked silently as though he was trying to say something.

Lily looked. Anything good enough to silence the infamous Black and Potter was definitely worth a glance. "Oh, **fuck** ," she whispered, and prodded Peter. He just whimpered when he saw it.

Remus took a deep breath and pulled the paper towards him. Four heads swivelled as eight eyes stayed fixed on the image.

Four became five, eight became ten. Remus Lupin gaped.

Brian Slade and Curt Wild were kissing. **Kissing**! Their heads filled the frame, their hands plunged into each other's hair, and holy hell, they weren't just kissing, they were bloody **snogging**! The sort of snog where hot, wet tongues tangled together and you sometimes bumped teeth but it didn't really matter because you were so turned on. The sort that left your lips stinging from the bites and friction, but also aching for more. The sort that more often than not led to plenty of bed-action for the people involved.

Oh, god.

Oh, **fucking** god!

Remus bit his lip hard and gripped the tabletop so tightly his knuckles turned white as the surge of arousal the photo had created inside his body became too much to bear, and the tension released in a warm, sticky flood in his jeans.

~+~+~+~

**That** picture.

The picture that had once and for all lain to rest any doubts he'd had about his sexuality.

The picture that had turned him on so much that he'd come in his pants like an over-eager virgin.

**That** **sodding** **picture**.

Remus poked at the problem with a tentative finger. It was still there, and didn't look like it would be going away on its own anytime soon.

Fine.

Remus grasped the problem and gauged its intensity. Roaring in ears. Toasty feeling all over skin. Hairs on back of neck fighting weight of drips of water and trying to stand on end. Hm. Pretty damn intense. This wouldn't take long.

He slid his hand from the head to the base and back again a few times in quick succession. It felt good. Damn, it felt good. He moved his hand faster, reaching a steady rhythm that created such sensations that he was sure he'd be turned inside out when he was finally finished. He sagged against the tiled wall of the cubicle, parting his legs slightly, and carried on pumping.

_Think Curt. Think Brian._

_Oh, god._

_Think... that lucky, lucky guitar._

_Mmm._

_Think long black hair._

And Remus came hard, pressing his mouth into the crook of one elbow to muffle his moans. The beat of the showerhead felt marvellous on his suddenly over-sensitised skin and he just stood there, letting the water wash the gloopy mess off his fingers.

As always (at least since the day the Curt Wild LP made its first appearance in Gryffindor Tower), the moans he'd had to hide consisted of one word, and one word only.

Sirius.

~+~

_Time to come clean, Remus_ , he told himself.

He'd been meaning to do it for weeks. He was sure they'd be okay with it. They'd all been okay when Sirius had told everyone he liked boys and girls, because they're all great and there's no difference. And none of the lads had minded when they'd returned to the common room after a late-night kitchen raid to find Lily and Skye snogging with their hands up each other's skirts (in fact, there had been rather a lot of grunting and squeaking mattresses from **all** the sixth year Gryffindor boys' beds that night). Even James didn't mind admitting he had a heck of a crush on Brian and Curt himself...

... so **why** was this so fucking hard?

_Deep breaths, Remus. Keep calm. Tell him. It's easy. Jim, I'm gay. Jim, I fancy boys._

Remus dried himself off quickly and pulled his boxers and jeans on. He rubbed his dripping hair with the towel, then went through to the dorm. James was already half-dressed, and there was no sign of the other two. They were probably at breakfast, if not already in Hogsmeade.

"Jim?"

Remus winced. _I sound like a little boy owning up to breaking my mother's favourite bloody vase._

James pulled a Venus In Furs t-shirt over his head. "Remus?" he said when his head popped through the tight neckhole.

Remus gulped. It was a girl's t-shirt... not that it mattered. Anything tight enough to show off James' muscular body like that was fine.

_Shit. I fancy **Jim** now?_

James grabbed at his glasses, which had been knocked off by the t- shirt and were making a desperate and suicidal bid for freedom over the edge of the bed. He slipped them back on, and Remus exhaled slowly, relieved. He **didn't** fancy Jim. Jim looked like an accountant in those specs, and accountants weren't sexy in the slightest. But long-haired, leather-wearing, bisexual glam rock aficionados **were**. Mmm.

"Can I... um. Are you busy? I sort of have to tell you something." He sat down on James' bed and looked at him anxiously, then jumped up as James unexpectedly glared at him.

"It was you, wasn't it?!"

"What?" Remus asked in utter bemusement.

"You put a Curt Wild t-shirt on my Godric Gryffindor hot water bottle cover, knowing full well that I'd get a rocking bad hard-on as soon as I saw it!"

James sounded indignant. Remus smiled and sat down again. "Oh! That. Don't be ridiculous, isn't it obvious that was Sirius? But that's not what I wanted to tell you."

"What, then? It had better be something good, or else my broomstick is going up your arse."

James really wasn't a morning person.

_Deep breath. Keep calm. It'll be fine._

"Um, well, that's sort of relevant."

James' eyes widened. "WHAT?!"

"I mean, the bit about, um, stuff up, um, bottoms," Remus said hurriedly. "Not necessarily brooms, but... y'know."

"I see," James said slowly. He looked at Remus carefully, scrutinising his eyes. "I **think** I see. Why don't you just say it?"

"Okay."

_Deep breaths. They were okay with Sirius. Breathe._

"You're going to pass out if you keep taking those huge breaths."

"Sorry." Remus trailed off and just looked at his hands stupidly. His nails were still dark blue, although it was just starting to chip off in places. Sirius had painted them the night before. The gang had been doing Transfiguration homework in the library -- not that Remus had been able to concentrate properly with Sirius' thigh pressed firmly against his...

~+~

"Finished!" Sirius announced, ending the last line with a flourish and drawing a couple of stars in the bottom corner because... well, just because. You could never have enough stars.

The others continued writing, and Sirius folded his arms on the table and rested his cheek on them. His new position brought his eyes right next to Remus' hands.

Remus glanced down. Sirius was staring at him. Staring at his **hands** , for some reason, as the right one gripped the quill and scribbled it across the page, and the left held the roll of parchment flat so it didn't fold up and smudge everything.

"Why are you looking at my hands?" he asked curiously.

Sirius shrugged. He took the quill away and replaced it in the inkpot, then ran his fingers over Remus' exposed palm. "Don't know," he said. "They're just nice. Can I paint your nails?"

"Huh?"

Sirius sat back in his chair and held up both hands, palms in, so Remus could see the polish. It was dark, dark red, and **god** , it looked good...

"Oh! Oh, um, no thanks."

"Oh, come on! You're finished, aren't you?"

Remus wrote another couple of lines. "Yes."

"Then let me paint your nails!"

_Oh, god. That would involve him holding my hands. Oh. God._

"Um. All right. But not red."

Sirius searched through his pockets and brought out two small bottles. "Okay, we have... um, red. Or silver. Your choice."

Lily got a little bag out of her satchel. "Purple, blue, pink, black and purple again," she said absently, not even taking her eyes from her work.

Remus looked doubtful. Sirius looked impatient.

"Got any, Jim? Pete?"

Peter shook his head, and James searched his pockets for a moment. "Ah!" he said eventually, bringing out a little glass bottle. "Dark blue."

It joined its brothers in a line on the table. Remus looked at each one carefully, and then tapped James' bottle. "That one."

Sirius unscrewed the lid. The tangy, not entirely unpleasant scent of the polish wafted into everyone's nose, and Sirius somehow managed to push his chair even closer to Remus'. He took Remus' right hand in his left, and drew the little paintbrush carefully down the centre of the thumbnail. They were both holding their breath -- Sirius so his hand wouldn't wobble and Remus because he just could **not** breathe with Sirius this close.

He painted another stripe of colour to the side, then did the final third. The polish glinted wetly under the flickering light of the torches on the wall. Remus stared at it.

_God, **how** much of a turn-on is this?_

He breathed out slowly and just watched as the process was repeated nine times, coating each nail in the blue-black colour that was so similar to the hue of Sirius' hair.

"There!" Sirius said happily when the last one was done. He screwed the top back on the bottle. "Cheers, Jim. Right, hold 'em up, Re, let's have a good look."

Remus showed James, Lily and Peter Sirius' handiwork (hoho).

"Nice," Lily said approvingly. "Very nice."

Sirius beamed with pride. "Don't you think boys with painted nails are the sexiest things ever?"

And those words were the only things running through Remus' head for the rest of the night. Well, those and some rather appealing images of Sirius in sexy nail polish and not much else.

~+~

"Remus, will you just say it?!" James said impatiently.

_Oh, right_ , Remus thought, remembering he'd been in the middle of something before being distracted by thoughts of Sirius.

"Jim?" he said cautiously.

"Yeah?"

_Breathe in. Breathe out. And say it._ "I'm gay."

"I know."

_Huh?!_

"You KNOW?"

"Oh, come on! Like it isn't obvious. Firstly, no straight guy would turn down a threesome offer from Skye Diggory and Lily Evans, you lucky bloody **stupid** bloody sod. Secondly, I've seen you go all red- faced and mumbly when you talk to Sirius."

Remus had thought his friends might have picked up a few gentle hints about him, but he didn't know he was so bloody transparent. "Is it **that** obvious?" he asked in an anguished whisper.

"Crystal clear, mate. Your cheeks go all pink and flushed, it's ever so sweet."

Remus blushed furiously and elbowed him. "Plank."

"You're the planky one here! And if you hit me again I'll tell Sirius you fancy him."

"NO! Don't!"

"Why not? You **do** fancy him, don't you?"

"Um. No."

"You do. I've heard you moan his name when you polish your wand every night."

_Oh, god..._

Remus fell back onto James' bed and covered his face with both hands. "Oh, god..."

"Yeah, sort of like that, only it's more like, 'Oh, god, Sirius, mmm, yes, good, more...' ow!" James rubbed his abused arm, which Remus had punched again. "All right. You asked for it."

He jumped to his feet and hurtled out of the dormitory and down the stairs. Remus followed right behind, grabbing at the back of James' t- shirt but never quite managing to get a grip on it. It was too tight. Bloody hell.

"No, Jim! Don't, please! Oh, you git, you'll be sorry when I catch you... bastard..."

"Sirius?" James called when he got into the common room.

"Hmm?" Sirius looked up from whatever he was doing in a table at the corner to find two of his best friends standing in front of him, half- naked. Remus was rather red in the face, and they were both panting heavily as if they'd just had a pretty thorough physical workout. Sirius frowned. "All right, guys," he said slowly, "who's going to tell me what's cracking off here?"

James pointed at Remus and smiled smugly. "He's got something to confess."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You stole my favourite Curt Wild t-shirt?"

"Um. No."

"Hang on," James said, confused, "didn't you put that on my hot water bottle cover, Sirius?"

"Eh?"

"Obviously not. Who was it, then?"

Remus began to sneak back upstairs, thinking he could get away. No such luck.

"Must've been Peter, the sneaky git," James said. He turned to the stairs. "And where do you think **you're** going, Remus?"

"Oh, god... leave me alone, you prat."

"I can tell him if you'd like me to?"

"NO! God, no. No, um... just no, okay?"

Sirius looked suspicious. "Well, **someone** had better tell me what's going on," he said warily.

James went to the portrait hole. "All yours, Remus," he said graciously, and he left the Common Room, still sock- and shoeless -- although it didn't really matter because his flares were wide enough to cover his feet anyway.

Neither boy spoke for a moment or two, choosing instead to just look at each other uncertainly. If anyone else had been standing in the room they'd have practically been able to slice the sexual tension in the air with a knife because it was so thick, but with the insecurity that was exclusive to teenagers, Remus thought it was a mixture of wishful thinking and his own feelings, doubled in intensity because he was so close to Sirius.

"All right," Remus said brightly, "I think I'll go back upstairs and, um, do... homework or something. Um. See you later."

"No, wait," Sirius said quickly. He moved his hand as if he'd meant to grasp Remus' arm but had changed his mind at the last minute. He stuck both hands in his pockets with some difficulty.

Remus licked his lips. Those trousers... **damn** , they were so tight...

"Do you want a game of chess?" Sirius asked.

_I have to get away. How embarrassing. Damn my teenage hormones. Please, Little Remus, be good. I'll play with you later, but **please** behave when we're in public..._

"No, thanks. You know how terrible I am at it."

"All right, how about cards?" He almost sounded desperate.

_Is he trying to make me stay?_ Remus wondered. He suddenly felt lightheaded.

"No," he said, tentatively testing the theory out. "I should really go and start that Potions essay."

Sirius began biting his lower lip nervously.

_Oh. Let me do that. Please. I don't need your heart or mind or soul or even your whole body. Just let me nibble on your lip like that._

"You've got all summer to do that. Just come and... just sit with me for a bit. Please?"

_Don't think it_ , Remus ordered himself. _Don't wish for it, or hope, or anything. You'll jinx your chances._ He just nodded, and followed Sirius over to the table at which he'd been sitting when Remus and James came down.

Remus glanced down at the table... and saw his own face grinning back. It was a photo. The whole table was littered with photographs of the group. Remus picked one up. He couldn't remember who'd taken it -- it couldn't have been one of the gang, because all five were present. James and Sirius had grabbed hold of Lily and were pretending to be about to throw her in the lake. She was torn between screaming and laughing, especially because Remus and Peter were creeping up behind with their wands raised, ready to turn their friends' ears into spoons or something.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked. He sat down, and Sirius slid into the seat opposite.

"I was going to stick all these new Melody Maker pictures in my Brian and Curt scrapbook, but I brought the wrong book down, the one with pictures of all us lot. Then I remembered I had a shoebox full of photos that still needed to be stuck in."

Remus nodded and reached for another picture, which he remembered having taken of Lily and James just before they all went home the previous summer. They were lying in the shade of a tree comparing O.W.L. results. Every so often, photo-James would reach over and pick an imaginary bit of grass out of photo-Lily's hair, or photo-Lily would look into photo-James' eyes for just a moment too long, then glance away and blush slightly.

"Look at this," Remus said. He started to push the picture across the table, but Sirius got up and came around so he was standing behind Remus' chair, bending over his shoulder.

"Is it as obvious to you as it is to me that these two are made for each other?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Definitely. And these two as well." Remus pointed towards a picture of Peter dancing with Skye at the fourth year Ball. They ignored the spectators and just moved to the silent music, kissing occasionally but mostly content to just be close. "Despite all their 'free love' ethics, they're happiest when they're together."

Sirius hesitated, then he tapped another photograph. "What about these two?"

Remus looked at it and started. It was himself... and Sirius.

Remus. And Sirius.

_Oh, god. Oh, holy crap._

It had been taken during a trip to Hogsmeade just before Christmas. Someone just out of frame was throwing snowballs, and photo-Remus was laughing his head off and hiding behind photo-Sirius, clutching him tightly around the waist so the force of his hysterics wouldn't make him fall over. The shiny-eyed, rosy-cheeked photo-Sirius kept dropping glances over his shoulder at his friend and smiling happily.

Happily. Sirius looked happy because Remus was hugging him. Ecstatic, in fact.

Real-Remus looked up at real-Sirius and almost melted. It was his eyes. He couldn't help it. Sirius was wearing a smudge of black eyeliner, drawing attention to his long lashes and extraordinary irises. They were dark grey-blue, like the sea during a thunderstorm, and Remus was drowning in them, and he didn't care. He didn't want to be saved. He wanted to drown in those eyes and stay there forever.

"What **about** those two?" he whispered.

Sirius swallowed hard. "Do you think... maybe that, um... they're made for each other too?"

Remus just stared at him. "I've thought so for ages," he said hoarsely. Then Sirius pulled him to his feet and hugged him, and everything was perfect. He ran his warm hands over Remus' bare skin, and Remus clutched him back as tightly as he could without doing some sort of physical damage to him, burying his face in Sirius' neck and willing himself not to cry with the beauty of it all.

"So have I," Sirius said softly, and it was perfection all over again. Surely it couldn't get any better than this, to be enclosed in the strong arms of the person you loved on a bright summer morning, when there was no one and nothing else around apart from the chirping of birds outside.

At least, that's what Remus thought until Sirius placed a finger under his chin and kissed him, wrapping strands of wet hair around the other hand and holding him close. Remus slid his arms around the taller boy's waist -- again -- and they just stood there for a while sharing their first sweet kiss.

It **was** sweet, and it was real. _Heh. Who'd have thunk it?_

The kiss ended, but the embrace didn't. Remus could feel Sirius' heart beating in time with his own, pounding against his chest, and he turned his head to the side, leaning his right cheek on Sirius' shoulder.

"Is this what James wanted you to tell me?" Sirius whispered. He felt Remus nod, and smiled. "I could kiss him. But I won't," he added hastily. Remus chuckled. "So," Sirius continued, "did you tell him? I mean, about... this?"

"No." Remus lifted his head and risked another glance into Sirius' eyes. Mmm. Yes, they were still there, and yes, he still wanted to die in them. "Well, not exactly. I told him I was gay, and he said he knew becau..." He stopped abruptly.

_Oh, shit. Shitty shit. Remus, you great fucking plank! What did you start to tell him that for?_

"Because...?" Sirius prompted. He planted a little kiss on Remus' forehead

"Nothing. Just because."

"Aw, come on! Why? If you don't tell me, I'm sure James will be happy to."

_Dammit._

"Okay. He said he knew because he's, um, heard me say your name."

"So?"

"When I was in bed. At night. Alone."

Sirius had worked it out and responded before Remus even knew what was going on, kissing him furiously and nudging him backwards until he bumped into the table and had to sit on the edge. His knees parted enough for Sirius to get even closer, so close that Remus ended up lying on the table, pushing half the pictures onto the floor. He only really realised what was happening when Sirius climbed up on top of him and he started to unbutton his shirt.

_Holy hell, I'm stripping Sirius!_ he suddenly thought, and the idea drove itself into his stomach in a weird mixture of happiness and want and a bit of fear. He made himself stop undressing him, and (with a supreme effort) pulled his face away. The boys looked at each other for a moment. Sirius' mischievous grin was back. He placed one hand over his heaving chest until his breathing had regulated, than smiled at Remus.

"Kinky," he said, gesturing to their position and the scattered photographs on the floor.

"Fuck," Remus muttered. "That wasn't directed at you," he added hurriedly. He pushed Sirius away and went over to the fireplace, staring at the empty grate as if it would be able to tell him what to do.

Sirius followed after a slight pause, and slipped his arms around Remus' waist from the back. Remus looked down at Sirius' dark red nails for a moment, then pulled away and folded his arms, stubbornly refusing to look at him.

"There's no way you can just ignore me after trying to rip my clothes off," Sirius said quietly.

Remus nodded slowly, and made himself look up. "That was a mistake," he muttered. Sirius nodded.

"Mm-hm. And do you accidentally kiss a lot of people like that?" he asked, keeping his tone light. Remus didn't answer. "Moony..." Sirius prompted.

"Um. Er... well, uh... Um."

"Well, that's a start." Sirius smiled tentatively, and Remus felt the glimmer of a smile touch his own lips. "Anything else?"

Remus exhaled slowly. The smile disappeared. "I can't do this," he muttered. "I'm sorry, I just didn't think this through properly. I'm a bloody werewolf, Sirius. You don't want to get yourself involved with me." He fell silent, then added a simple, sullen, "We just can't do it."

Sirius took Remus' hand again and slipped the other arm around his waist, this time from the front. "Do you **want** this?" he asked. "Do you want it even half as much as I do?"

Remus didn't look at him. "Twice as much."

"Oh, no. There's no way you want this twice as much as I do."

"Don't bet your life on that," Remus muttered.

Sirius kissed his forehead. "I love you," he said. No embellishment, no fancy language. Just three plain, simple words that came together to create the most beautiful phrase in the world. Remus' breath caught in his throat and he felt very close to tears.

"Don't say that," he begged.

"Why not? It's true."

"Sirius, please... I've told, you, I can't."

"But do you **want** to?"

Remus swallowed hard, and whispered, "More than anyth--" but his word was cut off when Sirius kissed him again. It was slower, sweeter than the last time, and Sirius pulled their clasped hands close to his heart, holding them there so Remus could feel the effect he had on him -- Sirius' heart was beating so hard it seemed it would be only a matter of time before it broke free of his body and disappeared into the night.

Neither of them knew how long they stood there kissing, but they jumped apart with little cries of surprise when the portrait opened, and both flushed deep crimson.

It was Peter and Lily returning from breakfast. Their eyes widened when they saw the mess around the table, and the red hue of their friends' cheeks.

"What happened?" Lily asked, although she had a pretty good idea of what she'd interrupted. Sirius' shirt was half-undone. Remus wasn't wearing one at all. Their hair was mussed and their lips dark and their cheeks so pink...

"Boggarts," Sirius said quickly. "Two of them, in the record cabinet. They were making a hell of a racket, but we sorted them out."

"I see," Peter said sceptically. "Shirtless Boggart-beating so you don't get your clothes dirty. Cool. Oh well. Don't we have to be somewhere, Lily?"

She nodded, and the two turned right around and left the common room. Remus raised his eyebrows.

"Is **that** how you beat Boggarts?" he asked in mock-wonder. "Amazing. So they've been teaching us wrong all this time?"

Sirius laughed. "Shut up! I just think that if they're going to discover us by walking in on us, we should give them something **really** juicy to interrupt."

He dragged Remus to an armchair for another good long snog.

And everything was perfect.

~END~


End file.
